Comparison
by Fate's Time
Summary: All she felt to him was the copy of his late love. He saw what she represented, but couldn't say how he really loved her.


"Arthur I can't do this anymore! I'm not her! I never will be!" I scream. Trying to get his attention off of his tea.

"Pish posh, sit down and drink your tea, Isabelle wouldn't have acted like this." He mumbles and waves off with his hand, still looking at everywhere but me.

I hang my head down, "Look at me Arthur, please." I feel his eyes on me.

"Yes love, and?" He only spares me a glance before looking back down.

"And? You really need an 'and'?" I knock his precious tea out of his hands.

He gaps at me like a fish, "H-how dare you!" Finally he meets my eye. "That was a gift from-"

"Isabelle."

"Yes, and you've broken one of your gifts, what has gotten into you?" He stands to his full height, which is only a few inches taller than me.

"Arthur, what's my name?"

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about? You're name's Isabelle-" He stares at me wide-eyed.

Arthur reaches for me. "Laura, pet, I'm sorry-"

"No you're not. You've never been." I step away as he advances.

"Please pet, I'm sorry. I know you're not Isabelle. It was all in good fun, eh?" Trying to cover himself, still advancing.

"This is the 20th time you've said sorry Arthur. I-I can't do this anymore. I can't keep being compared to a ghost throughout almost our entire relationship." I look in his eyes, his emerald eyes that I was once hypnotized by, now I just feel pain.

"Almost, you said almost. I haven't done it throughout the _entirety_ of it!" His eyes flash with hope, fear, remorse.

"For the first three months you didn't. But once you told me about her, I was compared." I'm trying to be rational, he always liked it when it was rational.

"Love, I won't ever mention her again if that's what you want. Please don't do this." He takes a small step forward.

"I could deal with you being a country. I could deal that I looked and sounded like your past love. But I can't deal with you trying to make me into her Arthur!" The tears starting to build in my eyes.

"I-I'm not! I love you for you! I'm not trying to make you into her!" Desperation seeping off of him, he didn't want to lose me.

"What's my favorite color? What's my favorite memory? What's my favorite book Arthur?" My voice breaking, most of my brain knowing what he was going to say, but there was a tiny part that was hopeful that he would answer right.

"Orange. Your first trip on your father's ship. The Count of Monte Cristo. See, love? I do know-" When he realized his mistake.

"Purple/blue. Working in the florist and book shops. Mists of Avalon. Hell Arthur what's my birthday!" Tears slowly falling.

"May 21! I got that right at least!" His temper starting to be lost.

"Close, April 21. Her's is May 12. You combined them." He's breaking more and more.

"Laura, love, pet. Please, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." He comes closer.

More tears fall, "Why did you like me Arthur, what did you like so much about me?" I need to finally hear it, we've been together a year now.

They lighten once more as he looks at me and I allow him to grasp my hands. If I wanted to hurt him now, I wouldn't need to lift a finger. "I loved the way you laughed. I loved how you challenged my wit. How much you enjoyed books..." Okay... "I thought Isabelle had come back to life." Nope.

"Good bye Arthur." I kiss him on the forehead, and turn on my heels and walk. I can hear his cries for me, slow paces behind my determined ones. I walk on, tears flooding my vision, get in my car, and drive off.

/==/==/==/==/==/==/==/==/

Arthur stared at where Laura had walked out. And out of his mouth come all the things he should've said.

"You're sorry for everything; it's adorable."

"You play guitar, piano, and violin better than anyone I've heard."

"You can scrape points by in Scrabble with such simple words. And how you get frustrated when you believe a word should be worth more."

"You can never beat me in chess, but you've never stopped trying."

"You can take all of Alfred and Scot's jokes, and turn them all on them."

"You indulge me in china shopping."

"You like older rock bands."

"You like to hear stories."

"I love you for you."

"You're not Isabelle. You're too amazing to be Isabelle."

He crys into his hands and tries to understand why he kept comparing the two women who were nothing alike.


End file.
